


To Wake Up Again

by dreamingKatfish



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Oma Kokichi-centric, POV First Person, Post-Game(s), Suicidal Thoughts, VR!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24923014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingKatfish/pseuds/dreamingKatfish
Summary: New friends or being a better friend? Who the hell knows what the answer is, sure as fuck not Ouma.
Kudos: 30





	To Wake Up Again

After so many days of being awake again, so many days stuck with the others. I’m beginning to think I need new friends… or maybe it’s just that I’m a hypocrite and need to be a better friend. I honestly can’t tell at this point… I’m not even sure if it would make a difference. Either way, I doubt I would be missed, at least not for long. Ah shit, it seems I’ve gone and done it again, crying in my “bedroom” all alone, how pathetic. I wonder if it’s my fault. If I was simply too good at playing the villain. Seems silly really considering I never meant to be the bad guy. Everyone else had decided it for me and… that was it. My fate was sealed. But is it really all that fair to blame them? Isn’t it my fault? I lied too much. Never seemed to trust anyone enough. Didn’t try hard enough. Isn’t it?

My eyes burn and I can’t tell if I’m being too harsh on myself or not harsh enough. I don’t want to be blameless, but I don’t want to blame them. Why can’t I stop being such a fucking hypocrite? Am I even being one in the first place? I move to stand and fall right to the floor. And it hits me like a bolt of lightning, I still can’t feel my legs. I hit the floor and begin to laugh. It’s bitter and broken. Ha. Just like me. How fitting…

I don’t want to live like this. But I can’t change it. And I don’t want to die. Not really at least. Like yes, I want my death more than my life. Yes, I can barely go a day without thinking about taking one of those fucking kitchen knives to my own throat. But that’s just all in my head. I don’t… I don’t really want that. I can’t tell if I’m scared to die, or just scared of what comes after. I just want this to be taken from my hands. Ah, shame Harukawa-chan has since changed her mind about how she feels about me. If this was still the game she would, she already proved she wouldn’t hesitate back then.

I stare the floor down, how fucking ironic huh? The one person who arguably hates me the most is the only one I can fucking believe doesn’t actually hate me now. Except it’s not just belief is it? I’m not Momota-chan after all. No, I deal in cold hard reality. I tried okay!? I tried to soften the blow! I tried lying! And guess what!? It didn’t fucking work! They got what they wanted and still couldn’t admit they were wrong. But I’m still the hypocrite. Because I’m not admitting it either… 

Except that’s exactly what I’m doing right now, admitting I was wrong and I’m still in the wrong. Except it’s also a tired conversation I’ve had with myself a million times and never changed. So does it even count? I still hurt people, again and again and again. What good is all this reflection if it doesn’t change anything? Just making me feel better about myself without putting in any real effort? What am I even hoping for with this? Pity? Fuck no. Forgiveness? Ha, not going to happen anyway. Understanding? As if. It feels more like torturing myself for all the times I’ve tortured them.

But god just thinking like that makes me feel sick like I’m manipulating them. Even if they can’t hear my thoughts. But that doesn’t really matter because it still colors my actions and it’s still toxic as fuck. But will it stop me? No! Of course not!

I collapse to the ground and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. You know everyone says the first step to solving a problem is admitting there is one. But I keep just admitting the same things over and over again without a single clue about what’s step two… To be honest I think I’m going to have to admit to myself that’s a problem. 

I can’t stop feeling guilty and I can’t blame anyone else. I honestly am not sure how these two things can coexist. I trace the lines carved into the still shitty, public school looking ceiling with my eyes. Everything feels like it’s falling apart, but I know time still hasn’t stopped yet. The world isn’t ending. There are no more life or death scenarios to worry about. No matter how much my life feels like it’s falling apart it will never change this. I still don’t know if that feels reassuring or not. 

I scrub my face of tears and look at the bed, boundly determined to focus on anything else right now. I don’t want to face my little mental break there, no matter how brief it may have been. But at the same time, I can’t just forget why I’m on the floor and not in the bed right now. And there’s no way I can get up there by myself. I don’t know if I would rather one of  _ them _ find me on the floor like this or one of the nurses. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. 

Once I open my eyes I roll over onto my stomach, dragging myself to the bedside table. I pull myself up as far as I can and flail my spare hand around on top of it until my hand hits my phone. I grab it before dropping back down again. Letting my back and head hit the floor again I scroll through my phone. I really don’t want to deal with any questions. I pull up my text history with Harukawa-chan and just shoot her a picture of the bed from my spot on the floor. She just marks it as read and I begin to play the waiting game.

Mind jumping from subject to subject trying to avoid crying again in case Harukawa-chan walks in before I can stop myself. When she walks in she doesn’t say anything about how much I failed in that regard. Just lifts me back into my bed. I don’t say thank you. She doesn’t ask me to. Just leaves again. No complaints. My head hits the pillow and I turn to look out the window. I ignore the thoughts pondering if I’m even going to wake back up again. 

I wonder why I keep refusing to be a better friend… 

**Author's Note:**

> Been in a venty sort of mood ig


End file.
